Hey guys, it's Anya! Okay, so I got this idea from a short story that Shelly Cullen had written to an extra to her story The Kidnapper. I got the idea of having these two certain characters (You can probably tell whom) meeting in the rain when they were younger and having the girl hate the rain and then come to love the rain. So all creative rights of this one part of the story goes to Shelly Cullen (be sure to check out her fanfics, they're interesting!). So I hope you enjoy my story, and please R&R! ^__^

Prologue

I sat there pouting. The rain was beating hard on the sidewalk. I hated the rain. It would get my hair, clothes, and even my socks all wet and disgruntled. As though the rain was not enough, my mother was giving birth to my little sister just as we spoke. Since I was only six, the hospital deemed me as too young to stay with my mother as she gave birth. My father wanted to stay with her, so I was all by myself. I could have waited inside, but there was a child crying and the entire waiting room smelt like old people. Therefore, I took my chances with the rain.

I sat near the hospital entrance on the right-most side of a bench. There was an overhang that was spread out among the front part of the hospital, but that still did not change the outdoors. The rain was pouring and it smelt of sea salt. Yuck.

"What's wrong with you?" A boy who was a bit older than me stood next to the spot on the bench where I was sitting. His left elbow rested on the back of the bench, giving him a cool appearance. The boy had navy blue hair and sapphire eyes. He wore a faded khaki trench coat and black jeans and on his feet was a pair of black sneakers. His attire also added on to his cool factor.

I looked up at him with the same pouty face I had on before. "It's raining."

The boy chuckled and said, "Really? Is that it?"

I frowned at him, now I was very angry towards him. "I hate rain!" I tried explaining to him in my bitter way. I looked away from him and closed my eyes like a complete brat.

"Kids these days…" He sighed.

I looked back up at him and pointed out, "You're a kid, too!"

"I'm eleven; I'm less of a kid than you are." The boy explained his position.

"So you're five years older than me, big whoop!" I said, throwing in a phrase at the end that I heard from a sitcom on the television.

He leaned down so that he was only inches away from my face. He had a seductive smile on his face –well, at least as seductive a smile from an eleven year old could get—as he looked into my eyes. "So you really hate rain, eh?"

I could feel my little six year old cheeks blushing. I replied, "O-of course! Rain is icky!"

He gave me a different smile, a friendlier and mischievous smile. His left arm shot down and grabbed my hand. He ran, dragging me along with him. We were exposed to the rain; nothing was above us to keep up us warm and dry. I could slowly feel my hair, clothes, and even my socks become all wet and disgruntled by the falling water.

"Rain is part of nature! You have to enjoy it!" He told me as we stood there in the rain.

My eyes were swelling up with tears. First rain, then mom and dad diverted all of their attention away from me, then my little sister was coming into this world, and now this boy was dragging me into the rain. I let my tears spill, and I wailed like a baby as they flowed uncontrollably.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He said soothingly. He took of his trench coat and placed it over my head so that the rain would not get me anymore wet than I already was. "Come on, Munchkin."

The boy led me back so that we were underneath the overhang. He was now soaking wet, even more so than I was. He crouched down so that he was even with my height and looked at me with a longing look in his eyes.

"You're not very cute when you cry." The boy informed me.

I was still hiccupping and tears were streaming from my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. I sniffed multiple times to stop snot from dripping from my nose, and I continuously tried to stop the tears from falling. The boy looked sad as well. Since I was young, I could not understand why he looked so filled with sorrow. Heck, even now I still have no idea what his sorrows were. The tears gradually stopped flowing, but my eyes were still filled with water.

The boy gave a soft smile and said, "You probably look a lot cuter when you smile. But ever since I first saw you, you haven't smiled once." He leaned forward gave me a small kiss on my forehead. I could feel my cheeks blushing once more as I looked up at him. He looked into my eyes and asked, "Before I leave, will you at least give me one sincere smile?"

I looked at him in confusion. "What does sincere mean?"

He chuckled and said, "It means that you're using your true feelings."

"Oh…" I looked down for awhile, trying to remember the word "sincere." I looked back up at him and gave him what was probably the warmest, most sincere smile of my entire life.

"Thanks, Munchkin…" As he spoke I could feel the sorrow in his voice and the same feeling was expressed in his smile. "Farewell."

The boy walked back into the hospital. Realizing that I still had his trench coat on top of my head, I ran back inside to try and catch up with him. However, when I went inside he was nowhere to be found.

That day, rainy days became my favorite. However, as I gained a new joy in my life, the tragedies only continued to increase. For as I was making a new friend, a tragedy itself was already beginning to take its course.